Dangerous Path
by AnonymousLily
Summary: What happens when Carolyn finds out the captain can touch? Why did he keep it secret from her?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1- Discovery

Spring, Carolyn thought to herself, always had made her restless. Rather than her usually cool and capable self, accepting of all the boundaries, she'd suddenly create or find opportunity from almost nothing. It had been in spring when she ended her relationship with Blair merely because she'd met someone else . . . who was it again . . . maybe Tony? . . .and exchanged a few pleasantries. Two years later she married Robert. Life intruded on her writing at that point, and for the most part, she had let it slide with some regret. After he died, she began to emerge from the numbness one spring by writing and daring to mail her stories to magazines. Waiting for an acceptance or rejection helped her to feel expectation and interest again. Finally, a few years later, having lived with first her father-in-law's meddling, and then her mother's smothering concern, she decided to take the kids and move somewhere beyond daily visits. She also decided that same year she could live with a handsome, kind, but very temperamental ghost despite her need for independence and solitude.

Yup, it was certainly spring again, because here she was sitting at her typewriter, trying to work on a piece for the state tourist board, yet daydreaming about the impossible, romance with the Captain. They'd only touched in her dreams- and once in a sweet dream he'd given her and the rest of the family as a Christmas gift. She grinned to herself, remembering. He appeared holding out a mug of coffee. "Good morning, Madam. I thought perhaps you might require some refreshment."

She took the mug while thanking him. She leaned back in her chair, away from the blasted typewriter, and said, "I could use a break. What I imagine is always much better than what I wind up typing."

"The curse of the writer. Perhaps a walk along the shore with me would do you good. Winter has passed and today is lovely, almost as beautiful as you are" He smiled at her, his eyes warm and admiring. Why did he have to be so handsome, and why did his voice always make her feel as if velvet had brushed against her?

"Well, Captain, I couldn't imagine any better company. Give me a few minutes and I'll meet you there." He bowed his head and disappeared. She changed into tennis shoes, brushed her hair, and added fresh lipstick, wondering exactly how crazy she must be.

She grabbed her jacket and jogged out, catching up with the captain who was walking along the waterline. He turned, his blue eyes tender, the breeze blowing his wavy auburn hair. She smiled up at him and said, "Captain, I do wish we could link arms as we stroll."

He smiled and sighed, looking out at the sea. "High tide." He turned back, asking "Shall we?" As they walked, he told her about the time he'd sailed to China: the stow away, a young girl whose feet were to be bound if she remained. Carolyn wondered if the stow away was beautiful as so many women in his stories were, until he mentioned the girl being younger than Jonathon. They walked only a few inches apart, parallel. Lost in his story and voice, she wasn't watching her footing. She stepped on a piece of driftwood and staggered a bit, bumping into him. "Whoops," he said as he reached out, grabbing her arm, steadying her.

She halted, glaring at him, feeling almost volcanic.

He smiled engagingly, "There might have been a slight stretch of the facts regarding my existence as a ghost, all for good reason."

"You lied to me!"

"Not lied, Madam, colored the facts a bit, perhaps."

"You lied and wrote a whole poem using that lie! All about how you'd trade so much if only we could kiss! I loved that poem!"

He stood there, silent, clearly searching for words. Hardly able to see, heart pumping so hard everything seemed dark, she slapped him across the face. He looked stunned, then disappeared. "How convenient," she yelled, "I wish I could just disappear!"

She heard his disembodied voice, almost icy now: "Madam, I will give you some time to calm down. I'll steer clear of you until you regain your reason, and then we shall continue this conversation in a civil manner."

"Captain, don't you disappear on me! Come back!" There was no response, only the waves crashing on the beach. "Look, I'm sorry I slapped you; I was just so shocked and angry! Oh my God, I never slapped anyone in my life before!" She began to cry. "Please forgive me!" Still, nothing.

She sat on the beach, watching the clouds, untouchable clouds, and the anger took hold again. Why had he lied? She walked home, muttering to herself. As she closed the front door, she heard Martha call, "Back so soon?"

Trying to keep her voice at a normal pitch, she called that she needed to get to work. At least all the angst helped her to type like a fury. Blast him and his lies about not being able to touch, him and his numerous affairs while he was alive, his meddling in what few dates she'd had. After finishing the article, she attacked the housework. Martha and the kids teased her about all her energy, and she just tried to smile and tell them spring was in the air.

Chapter 2- Truth and Stories

For days she didn't see him. Sometimes she'd forget for a moment and miss him, and then that casual arm steadying her on the beach would replay in her head, and she'd practically steam. She didn't know if he really was avoiding her or merely lurking where she was, invisible. She knew he'd spent time with Jonathon. Her son was very close-mouthed about the captain, not chattering on about him like usual, and the new model ship being built was too perfect to be Jonathon's work alone. Having him so close-mouthed made her even angrier. No doubt her son had been told some sexist nonsense about feminine moodiness.

One evening when the kids were in bed, she was sitting reading on the window seat. Martha entered with two cups of coffee, offered her one, and sat by her at the window seat. "Thanks Martha" was all she said before returning to her book.

"What are you reading?"

"I Sing the Body Electric- short stories by Bradbury. Our less than current Schooner Bay Library just got it despite it coming out last year." She went back to reading.

Martha said, "It's not good to be like that."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know what happened between you and the captain, but taking it out on us isn't fair."

Carolyn folded the page she'd been reading from, and put the book down. "Okay, Martha, let's leave the captain out of it. How have I been 'taking it out on' you?"

"You've gotten very quiet. When you smile, it's more like you're gritting your teeth. You've snapped at the kids a few times to be quiet, something you never do. And just now, I brought you a cup of coffee, sat down, and you dismissed me with a 'thanks'."

"I didn't mean to dismiss you; this is just a new book by an unusual author. If I have been short tempered or dismissive, I apologize."

"So what happened between you two? He hasn't been popping in unless you're elsewhere."

Carolyn sighed. Getting it off her chest would be wonderful, but discussing it with Martha- who lived in the same house- was out of the question. "Just another in our long line of arguments."

Martha nodded. "Must be serious if you won't discuss it. I won't ask the captain. Just so you know, when he pops in the kitchen our spirit is mighty dispirited. Me, I'd like to go back to being a nice normal abnormal family." Carolyn changed topics, telling Martha she'd missed out on any Schooner Bay gossip. She knew this would distract Martha, who'd tell her things Ed Peavey discovered while making repairs. Or, she amended to herself, Martha would be kind enough to pretend distraction. She tried hard to be like her normal self.

After Martha went to bed, she simply sat, having lost interest in the book. She always had figured the captain was the temperamental one, yet in the last few days, she'd slapped him, snapped at the kids, and been distant towards Martha. Yes, she was still angry, sort of a slow burn, almost . . . ugh . . . like a woman scorned. Blast him! Wait, calm down. Stewing won't help, and neither will avoidance. It was time to face him. She'd call him here, not in the bedroom, especially not in the bedroom. How dare he spend all that time there pretending to be an illusion! Of course, he'd always been a gentleman, triple blast.

"Captain? I'm ready to talk in a calm manner. Are you there? Captain?"

His disembodied voice rumbled, "Our first intentional touch and you slap me."

"I'm sorry, but did you expect me to throw myself in your arms and thank you for lying about something that matters so much?"

He became visible, leaning against the mantle. "Having you throw yourself in my arms would admittedly have been more pleasant than being treated like a cad."

"Why? Just tell me why! Is it because you've never been close to a woman you respect before? Are you afraid?"

"Women! I'm almost glad I'm dead as otherwise I'd suffer a mighty headache! My affairs during my life are my own, and have no bearing on the issue at hand. Secondly, even without touching, you think we HAVEN'T been close? Finally, for an intelligent writer who lives with a ghost, you seem singularly unversed in ghost lore."

"So, rather than telling me, you're directing me to read ghost stories so I'll understand. I'm alive and CAN get headaches. Just spit it out!"

He was silent for a moment. "Madam, This is difficult. I never meant to assume, but there's many a tale, Scottish, German, Japanese, even passed down from the Vikings about young men who fell in love with beautiful ghosts. Sometimes they marry, sometimes not, but at the moment of greatest personal intimacy, she becomes herself as she is in the grave, a rotting corpse."

All her anger seeming childish, Carolyn sank down on the sofa. Was it true or a myth? She didn't believe in ghosts before she came here. "Captain, I'm at a loss for words."

"Madam, lying was necessary. I did so the first night to maintain your comfort. When I

called it 'our cabin,' I knew you wouldn't remain if you knew I could be a physical being. Later, because I desired so much to touch you, and didn't trust myself, I wrote that poem to erect a barrier. If nothing at all could occur, we could not start down a dangerous path."

"Oh Captain, I'm so sorry for that slap. But we don't know if those stories are true or not."

"No Carolyn, we don't. But what if they are?"

She went to hug him but he backed away. She stood there, one tear escaping her eye. "Blast," He muttered. He reached out and took her hand in his, giving it a squeeze. She realized he was comforting her. That hurt even worse. This kind man whom she loved (she admitted to herself), this brave man who had just told her his worst secret, he was comforting her.

She looked at him, eyes glistening, and murmured, "This isn't such terrible news."

"It isn't?" He sounded angry.

"Captain, now I know you can make a dream real for me." He looked confused. "Dance with me."

For a moment he looked trapped. Then he nodded, pointing a finger at the radio, changing stations until a waltz played. His lips brushed the hand he was holding. Staring into each other's eyes, they danced, swirling graciously through the darkness that surrounded them. As beautifully as he danced, there was a dirge like quality to his movements. Carolyn knew that interrupted kiss from her dream would never be completed in reality. Probably they would never again dance, and so they danced until Carolyn staggered with exhaustion.

When Martha came down next morning, the captain hushed her at the base of the stairs, whispering, "She's asleep." Martha peeked in the living room and saw Carolyn asleep on the sofa, an afghan from upstairs draped over her, a half smile on her lips.

Martha whispered, "Oh good, back to the nice abnormal family."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 3 Full Stop

Carolyn awoke to the sound of birds outside the open living room window. She opened one eye, noting the captain

comfortably settled in an armchair, an open book in his hand, a cup of . . . she sniffed . . . Not coffee beside him. He looked up as she yawned and stretched. "Thank you for last night, Daniel."

He grinned wickedly. "It's gratifying to know even after a hundred years I would hear those customary words from a beautiful woman's lips, but never before for a dance."

Perceiving his need for pride, for no discussion, just to continue as if nothing had changed, she replied, "Your humility is dwarfed only by your even temper."

He chuckled. "Touche, Madam."

She stood, suddenly too aware she'd slept in the clothes she'd worn all day yesterday. She must look terribly grungy. She began to fold the afghan, debating between a cup of coffee or shower first. She glanced at the clock and wailed, "It's so late! Why didn't you wake me?"

Martha bustled in, holding out a cup of coffee and taking the afghan. "Good day, Sleeping Beauty. Don't worry about the car-pool, I switched you to after school today."

It was a short but busy day, trying to get everything done in less time. Finally after running errands, picking up the kids, and typing up the latest story from her scrambled notes, she offered to play a game of Monopoly with the kids. As Candy rolled the dice, Jonathon chattered away about the captain. He mentioned how Captain Gregg had once lifted him so he could see the eggs in a bird's nest. Carolyn asked, "When was that, Jonathon?"

"Gee, I don't remember. Oh, wait, right after that barnacle Claymore and I dug up that cool treasure chest."

"So you understood a ghost could touch people pretty soon after you met him?"

Jonathon shrugged. "Yeah, Mom." It meant nothing to him.

Candy chimed in "When did you find out Mom?" Bulls-eye, the arrow hit the target. Jonathon knew two years before she did?

"A little after that, honey." Really, it didn't matter. The captain had been protecting her from a horrible possibility, the poor man. Although, she thought to herself, it was presumptuous of him to think the "the greatest possible personal intimacy" was a path they might go down. They'd never even kissed, except in the Christmas dream. They were engaged in that dream, but there had been no proposal, no opportunity to say yes or no. The dream kiss had been lovely, standing out in the cold, the heat of his body and his lips warming her. Maybe outside a dream his kisses would not be so special. Once when she was a teenager, she'd had a crush on a boy for months. Their first kiss had ended her crush. Or worse, maybe he was the type to jokingly smack her on the rump as if she were a horse. Robert had done that once, and once only. Even if becoming lovers were possible, Captain Gregg was so old fashioned, always chiding her for not being ladylike. Imagine a comment like that during . . . intimacy. Keep working on it, she told herself, and maybe you can convince yourself that the grass is blue and the sky is green.

"Mom, you came in last!"

"Isn't that always the way?" She pretended sadness for a moment then added, "But really I win because I have you two." She tickled them both into fits of giggles. "Okay, bedtime now. Give me a hug!"

She went downstairs to mend more bridges. She made two cups of hot chocolate and brought one to Martha. She sat beside her in front of the television. "My, the weather has certainly improved around here," Martha commented. "You want something else?"

"No, I don't mind Laugh In."

After it was over, Martha insisted on taking the cups, "Otherwise I'll have to write and you clean the house and cook, and let's face it, I'm not a writer and . . . .

Carolyn laughed, "I'm not a cook."

Carolyn retired, changing into her nightgown. She wondered if Daniel was ticklish, not a useful line of thought. There was a knock on her door. Expecting Martha, she opened it. He stood there, wordless, eyes burning. "Yes?"

He brushed a stray strand of hair off her cheekbone, such a gentle touch, almost like a butterfly wing despite the calluses on his fingertips. They remained there for a moment, looking at each other. Just a single touch, yet this time he had initiated it. He sighed, raggedly. "Madam, we must continue on as though touch were impossible. However in light of recent events, I'll not enter our cabin while you're in it without your invitation."

She took a breath, about to speak, when he disappeared. She was glad he hadn't given her time. What was there to say, really, that wouldn't cause more pain? She climbed into bed, sighing. She said, hoping he'd hear it, "Captain, you haunt Gull Cottage in more ways than you can possibly imagine."


	3. Chapter 5

Chapter 4 Mutiny

Carolyn couldn't sleep. She watched the white curtains billow in the breeze. She loved a man . . . a ghost … someone who was afraid to touch her, was afraid of being touched, afraid of the result. She turned over, seeking a less uncomfortable spot. In most of the ghost stories she'd read or heard, the ghosts were malevolent, frightening. When she had first met the captain, he did seem frightening, but hardly malevolent. Egotistical perhaps, the way he'd boasted of his conquests, but he'd been alone for so long with no one to talk to but himself.

She sat up, punching her pillow into a more comfortable shape. The pagan Celts had decorated their places of worship with human skulls, an uncomfortable reminder that the seeds of death are already within us. She tried to imagine how she would react if, in a moment of passion, the captain became a skeleton. No, she simply couldn't imagine it.

She turned onto her back. Daniel had made the rules clear, drawing his line in the sand.

Still, a line in the sand was arbitrary. Tides change, the wind blows, and sand shifts, erasing.

She kicked one foot out from under the covers. She loved two dead men. Was it some sort of punishment? Robert was gone; Daniel was here, in this house. She wished her brain had an off switch, her bed like a prison, herself sentenced to be still. Enough. Anything would be better than this. Even making horrible mistakes would be better than this.

She put on her robe and went up to the wheel house, his private sanctum. She knocked, softly calling his name. The door swung open and she saw him across the room, cigar in one hand, pen in the other, his log book open before him. He snapped the book shut and set the pen down, asking, "Yes, Madam?"

"Daniel, we need to talk."

He blew a smoke ring, nodding, somewhat withdrawn.

"It seems to me you've neglected the obvious."

"I sincerely doubt that as I've contemplated the matter quite a bit, madam, but pray continue."

"You were trying to maintain your distance physically because of those ghost stories. You lied, although for a good reason I'll admit."

"As I told you on the beach before you slapped me."

"Which I've apologized for."

"I might have been slapped once or twice before in my life. Go on."

"Who else slapped you?"

"It's of no consequence. Continue!"

"So, because of those ghost stories, all touch between us is forbidden. That's the decision you had made to protect us both."

"That's why I lied, yes."

"Because you think neither of us is capable of self-restraint."

"Madam, you seem to be veering off course a little."

Determined, she walked over to him and took the lit cigar from his hand, placing it in an ashtray. She pressed her lips against his. His eyes widened, but he didn't push her away. All that time of wishing, of wanting, fueled Carolyn's kiss and he responded ferociously. This was not a gentle kiss; this was . . . molten. Heart hammering, she broke off the kiss, smiling up at him. "Do you get my point, Daniel?"

"I'm not sure. Perhaps you need to explain again."

"Perhaps there is an impossibility here. But must we turn our back on what is possible?"

"When I said explain again, I didn't mean tell me."

"I think perhaps you got my point. May we continue this discussion later? I want to give us both time. Good night, Daniel." She brushed her lips against his cheek.

As she closed the door, she heard him mutter, "Damned mutiny."

Chapter 5 Of Public Displays of Affection

One evening a week later, Martha entered the living room where Daniel and Carolyn were entangled on the sofa. Martha cleared her throat, and the two pulled back, looking sheepish but smiling. Martha said, "Not meaning to pry or anything, but I'm getting a little tired of innocently bumping into you two lovebirds necking. If I were related to Carolyn, I might ask you, Daniel, what your intentions are, but I'm no busybody."

With a devilish grin, the captain replied, "I appreciate your disdain for busybodies, otherwise I might have to ask about Mr. Peavey's intentions, given what occurred in a certain truck parked outside last night."

Carolyn watched the battle, amused. "Captain, how dare you watch us! You're a peeping tom!"

"No, I heard what I assumed was someone in pain, either that or a moose in rut. I merely ascertained that there was no injury and no moose. Believe me, I did not linger." Carolyn couldn't help herself, she burst out laughing. "Furthermore, my intention is simply to make her as happy as I can."

Martha snapped, "You'd best do that. And it wasn't what you thought in the truck, Captain Nosey."

"Carolynn, perhaps we should adjourn to the wheelhouse."

In the wheelhouse, she sat beside him, leaning her head on his shoulder while he draped an arm around her. She said, "So you spied on Martha and Ed?"

"Carolyn, why would I?"

"But rutting moose?

"Mr. Peavey is enthusiastic in his vocalization. I sincerely thought an injury had occurred."

"Do you think they're serious?" The captain remained silent. "Daniel?"

"Carolyn, all this is wrong, albeit pleasant."

"You mean us?"

"If I could be a husband to you, I'd ask for your hand."

She reached up and caressed his face. "I know. But just this, touching your face and having your arm around me makes me happy."

"If Martha knew the truth about me, she'd be disgusted."

"Martha's more of a romantic than you might think. I think she'd understand."

"Out of blasted pity, perhaps."

"Daniel, I think we should enjoy what we have now, which is more than we ever had before." He muttered something. "What did you say?"

"I said blast."

"That's not what I thought I heard."

"Madam, what I said is not appropriate for a lady to hear."

"Stop calling me madam! And you always call me a lady as a way to avoid things!"

"Alright, Carolyn. I'll be blunt. What's the point in all this . . . What did Martha call it? Necking. You say you're happy, and perhaps you are for now. I am a man, or was a man. All this 'necking' only makes me more aware of what we can never share."

"What do you want me to say? Full steam ahead despite a literal skeleton in your closet? That I'd marry you and take my chances?"

"Yes."

"Yes?"

He kissed her hand, then looked her in the eye, demanding. "Marry me. You have courage. Think of it as a gamble- a gamble for happiness. I've waited so long for you, both in life and after."

"Daniel . . . I didn't expect this. I need to have time to think."

He stood. "Of course, madam. Call my name when you've decided." He disappeared. Slightly dazed, she wandered down to the kitchen for a cup of coffee.

Chapter 6 Once Again Martha Deals with Life's Complexities

She sat at the table, coffee cup cradled in her chilled hands, trying to think. Yes was out of the question, but no meant everything would change. No would mean leaving Gull Cottage, and she couldn't do that- not to Daniel, and not to Jonathon who loved him like a father. Suppose she did marry him for the sake of family; and he did turn in to some horrible creature . . . would he remain like that forever? Would he disappear? How could he have put her in this position?

Martha bustled in, laundry basket in hand, jolting Carolyn out of contemplation by joking, "Oh thank goodness, it's not you two sparking again." Carolyn looked up at her, and Martha immediately set the basket down and joined her at the table. "What's wrong?"

"He proposed."

"Oh that rotten ghost! Help me out here, you two clearly love each other; he's certainly good with the kids. Granted, it's a little strange, but strange isn't so bad. Is it because you feel like you'd be unfaithful to Robert's memory?"

Carolyn called Scruffy. "Hey boy, is the captain here now?" Scruffy sniffed around the kitchen, then sat down. "Scruffy, keep watch." Carolyn explained to Martha.

Martha grimaced. "I never expected to know quite that much about my employer."

"And friend?"

"And friend. You two each need a friend at this point. I'm way out of my league on this."

"You see why I can't marry him."

"Yeah, and I see why he hid his ability to touch for so long. Frankly, you shouldn't have started anything at all with him after you found out. I understand why you did, but still."

"I wish I could go back in time and redo everything."

"Well, everything happens for a reason. I always try and tell myself that. Hmmm. The root of the matter is whether he'll transform or not, because otherwise I'd make book that you'd marry him so fast it would make my head spin." Carolyn nodded. "So maybe you need to talk to folks who know a lot of ghost stories. Why not call up that medium you interviewed, or that ghost hunter Paul Wilkie."

"I can't ask directly, but I suppose I could pretend I was writing an article on ghosts and researching. I couldn't interview Wilkie, he'd figure too much out and no doubt haunt us in the worst possible sense."

"Then find someone like Wilkie who doesn't know you. Use a different name, too, maybe your maiden name. I'm sure folks in that field swap information."

"Thanks, Martha. I don't why it hadn't occurred to me."

"Because you're too close to the matter. Prepare yourself for the worst, but hope for the best."

"So Martha, I've spilled my guts. What about you and Ed? Is it getting serious?"

Martha grinned. "It passed getting serious. That so called moose noise was poor Ed when we discovered the stone fell out of the ring setting."

Carolyn shrieked, jumped out of her chair, and hugged Martha. "I'm so happy for you!"

Right then, Scruffy started growling at an empty space in the kitchen. Martha nonchalantly said, "I didn't know me finding a recipe for pavlova cake would excite you that much."

"I only had it once in a restaurant, but it was so good!" Scruffy stopped growling, sat down, and began scratching his ear. "Martha, what is pavlova cake?"

"I'll make one so you'll know."

"Did you find the stone?"

"Yes, but don't ask where."

"Have you set a date?"

"We're in negotiations. I'm holding out on cherry pies until I know when."

The three mediums she 'interviewed' all struck her as having consciously developed eccentricity. Most of what they had to say seemed as vague and misty as their flowing skirts, shawls, and even sleeves in one case. One of them, however, did clutch her arm and intone, "I'm getting a message from the great beyond . . . It's a handsome man . . . He burns for an answer . . . Wait . . . What? This is so strange . . .He also wants a boy to stop absconding with ball point pens. Does that make sense?"

Carolyn merely answered, "Possibly."

The parapsychologists seemed to be a different breed entirely, much more technologically and scientifically minded, that is until she got them to speak off the record. One spoke of his departed aunt appearing in times of trouble. Another one told her of invisible but not unwanted advances made in the night at a bed and breakfast. Only one of them knew of a tale like the ones Daniel had mentioned, but there was some question of sanity involved in the person who had reported it as happening, and that question of sanity had begun long before the tale supposedly happened.

Chapter 7 In the Garden

Having just finished with the last ghost hunter 'interview,' Carolyn swiftly walked into the garden. It had been a rainy day, again, but the rain had stopped, leaving diamond-like drops glistening on leaves. She wondered if so much rain lately had been his doing, or merely spring showers. She cleared her throat and softly called for Daniel. He appeared, wary, one hand braced against the monkey puzzle tree. She looked into his unflinching blue eyes and said, "Yes, Daniel." He burst out laughing, swooped over, picked her up in his strong arms, and spun her around.

He put her down, a grin on his face. "And if I should turn?"

A little breathless, she replied, "You were a unique and willful man." His nodded. "Now you're a unique and willful ghost. I don't believe you'll ever resemble any ghost story. You're just too stubborn."

"I'd say now is a wonderful moment for a wedding, but I suppose now is too soon for you. No doubt there's feminine fripperies to arrange."

"More like family matters, breaking the news for one. I'd like to tell Candy and Martha myself. Would you mind telling Jonathon and Claymore?"

"Claymore?"

"You should have one relative there." He scowled . "Belay that, sir. How about one alleged relative? Besides, we need a justice of the peace."

"What about the moose?"

"Stop calling him that! You want to invite Ed?"

"Thus we won't have lost a dear family member, but will have gained a repairman."

Carolyn laughed. She thought of all the misty apparitions she'd recently been told of compared to this all too human and vivid man. "Is he ready to meet you yet?"

With a somewhat evil grin, he said, "We've already met."

"Hmmm. I'm afraid to ask. Is tomorrow evening soon enough? That would give Martha time to prepare."

He hesitated. "Carolyn, you're truly certain?"

"So very certain. But are you? Remember, you're forever in the prime of your life while I will age."

"Hmmm. Perhaps we should call it off."

"Daniel?"

"A jest. A bit of payback, if you will."

He reached in his coat pocket, removed an emerald ring, and slid it on her finger. "Oh Daniel, it's so beautiful."

"A poor imitation of your bewitching eyes." He kissed her, slowly, with much more tenderness than ever before.

She murmured, "Daniel, should we adjourn to our cabin?"

"The children will be back from school soon, too soon."

"Perhaps tonight?"

"Better to wait. If by chance those old stories are true, I'd rather be married first."

She wondered if this was more payback. "I think you've misinterpreted my invitation."

"I've never misinterpreted an invitation like that."

"And no doubt there were many in your life. You never told me about who slapped you."

"You did, my dear, you did. I forgive you but also expect much to make up for it."

In the shimmering green of the garden wet with rain, they held each other.

Chapter 8 Love and Fear

When Carolyn told Candy, her immediate reaction was less than what she'd hoped for. "You act like you're married anyway, but you like each other better than most kids' parents. Can I have a new dress and be a bridesmaid?"

"How about if you wear that dress Grandma and Grandpa got you for their wedding vow renewal? You'll make a lovely bridesmaid!"

"I need SOMETHING new; Mom, this is like practice for when I marry."

Carolyn tried not to look amused. "Not too soon I hope." She hesitated, then added, "I need you to know that this doesn't mean I love your father any the less."

"Sometimes I still think about him, but it stopped hurting awhile ago. The captain isn't like a dad exactly, but he is family. It's just he waited so long to let me know about him. Is it okay if I call him Captain instead of Dad?"

"Honey, you can call him captain. About him waiting so long to make himself known to you, remember how frightened you were your first night here?"

"Yeah. But then I wasn't frightened. And he and Jonathon were really close and I thought Jonathon was making him up because he missed Dad so much."

"Oh, honey! The captain frightens people sometimes, like when he's angry or trying to protect something. When he really cares for someone, he tries hard not to frighten. One of the ways I know he loves you, silly as it may sound, is how long he waited to let you see him."

"I'm glad you're getting married, Mom, really. I just wish I wasn't the last one to find out stuff."

Telling Martha should be a breeze after this, Carolyn thought. When she did, Martha said, "Congratulations! I'm assuming the ghost experts had the answers."

"Not exactly answers. It's a bit of a unique situation. The only way out is through."

"Tomorrow night doesn't give me much time to prepare."

"Martha, if I ever take you for granted again, just remind me of this and your ghost expert idea."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 9 Homespun

At dusk, Martha began to play Moonlight Sonata as Daniel had requested, living room lit by numerous candles. Claymore, wearing the undertaker's suit again, fidgeted before the roaring fire. The captain had cleared away all the furniture except the piano, its bench, plus a chair beside it for Ed, who kept nervously inching it a little closer to her.

The captain, wearing his dress uniform and sword, stood proudly erect, one hand resting on Jonathon's shoulder. Carrying a bouquet of wild flowers and tottering in her first ever high heel shoes, Candy descended the stairs. Carolyn followed, and as she entered the living room, Daniel's warm eyes proudly met hers. When she reached him, he took her hand in his, and reached down and clasped Jonathon's hand in his other. Seeing this, Candy grabbed her mother's hand and wished she'd thought to hold Scruffy too. They all stood before Claymore hand in hand.

At the kiss, Martha and the kids clapped and cheered while Scruffy barked. Carolyn handed the bouquet to Martha and whispered, "Please be sure at your wedding Candy doesn't get the bouquet!" Daniel boomed to a flinching Peavey, "You see how they plot!"

The wedding dinner was, of course, delectable, as Martha had taken full advantage to show off her skill. Claymore seemed determined to show his better side, and even Ed spoke once in awhile. Carolyn didn't eat much, just steadily sipped champagne, trying to converse and laugh rather than stare happily at how handsome Daniel was in his uniform.

She wanted to etch it in her memory. The kids chattered, Martha joked, and the captain took his role as host seriously, trying to include everyone.

After dinner, they all returned to the living room where Daniel switched on the radio to classic. The newly weds glided, Martha and Ed held their own, and even Claymore attempted to dance with a tottering Candy. The captain whispered, "Much more homespun than a cotillion, but much more elegant with you in my arms." They stopped, caught in each other's eyes.

Looking meaningfully at Claymore, Martha cleared her throat and announced it was getting late. Claymore began to object: "The night is young! Oh, I see." He yawned widely.

The party began to break up. Claymore hugged Carolyn, and approached Daniel with open arms. He growled, "I knew there was a reason for hiding my physicality," and suffered a hug, thanking Claymore for performing the ceremony and deeding Gull Cottage to Carolyn as a wedding gift.

Carolyn sipped more champagne, feeling a little like an old fashioned bride nervous about what would follow, although for very different reasons.

Chapter 10 The Monster At the End

All the guests having departed, Daniel lifted Carolyn in his arms whispering, "Finally you shall be beside me on the night watch." She nestled against his chest as he carried her up the stairs. When he set her down in the master cabin, she staggered and he grabbed her arm to steady her.

She giggled, saying "History repeats itself. I may have had a little too much champagne."

He smiled, kissing her, then brushing his lips down to the hollow of her throat while unzipping her dress. She ran her fingers through his hair, murmuring about wild coils of hair, until her fingers snagged in a tangle and she giggled. He stopped, quizzical for a moment, and then said, "Please tell me you're not drunk."

"Maybe a little tipsy. Just enough, just in case something bad happens, which I doubt."

"Ah," he said, nodding his head in understanding. She fumbled with trying to remove his clothing while her dress slipped off. He starred in admiration for a moment then and said, "You're unaccustomed to the fastenings of my era. May I be of assistance?"

"Assist away!" He merely waved his hand and all his clothing disappeared. Her eyes lingered over his long, lean body. She said, "Wait a minute! You cheated!"

"How so?" She stepped out of her dress and kicked her high heels off; they thudded against the floor.

She grinned at him. "It's better if you remove your clothes piece by piece, like a mere mortal."

"I shall inscribe that in my memory. How do I get this blasted rigging off you?"

She took off her bra and sling shot it across the room, then yanked off the rest. She jumped on the bed, laughing. "Carolyn, I believe you are drunk."

"No, but your portrait really doesn't do you justice! You realize it's been awhile for me." He began to laugh and got on the bed beside her. "Daniel, why are you laughing?"

"It's been considerably longer than awhile for me." He held her, hands exploring. "I've been imagining this for so long, so much unspoken between us, so much promise in your eyes, and finally here you are, so beautiful and carefree, like sunlight."

In the morning Carolyn woke, feeling for him beside her, but he wasn't there. There'd been no terrifying transformation in the night, but where was he now? She got out of bed, pulling on a nightgown. He entered the room then with a tray with breakfast, a sunflower, and a children's book on it. "Daniel, thank you! But oh I was so scared for a minute that you had disappeared!" Spring had once again brought unexpected blessings.

He smiled, "I thought a bit more privacy before we made an appearance downstairs would not be amiss."

"What's this book?"

"Carolyn, look at the title."

"The Monster at the End of This Book?"

"It's about an improbable blue creature named Grover who attempts to prevent pages being turned, dreading the monster from the title. At the end, this charming but odd fellow discovers he is the monster in question, and suffers embarrassment from all his previous efforts at prevention."

They locked eyes and burst into wild laughter. "Daniel," she gasped, "when did you begin reading children's stories?"

"Since I don't partake of sleep, I've frequently read in the long watches of the night. Martha had a copy of it to send to her nephew. I intended to bring you a love poem, but . . . ."

She said, "Daniel, this is perfect."


End file.
